


What Would it Take?

by MaybeSherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 00:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18954475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeSherlock/pseuds/MaybeSherlock
Summary: Sherlock goes to Molly's flat after the ILY call and knows everything is changed. He needs to tell her he had lied to her, but not about what she may think.





	What Would it Take?

**Author's Note:**

> This got more passionate on me than I anticipated! Hope you enjoy!

It was three days after the events at Sherrinford before Sherlock was free of debriefings with Mycroft. He knew the levy was at the brim: he had reached the breaking point when he said those words to Molly. On the taxi ride to her flat, Sherlock organized what he was going to say; that he was drawn to her when he first met her in the morgue at Bart’s, that the young foolish bastard he was locked his developing feelings for her in a room in his Mind Palace. But soon a door lock was not enough to contain his desire for her. Over the years, the ocean of his love for her required a Great Levy to keep it from sinking his whole Mind Palace. But now, he is ready to surrender. 

As Sherlock stood on her door step, adrenalin pumped in his veins bouncing his heart across the line of anxiety and joy. He gently knocked on her door and held his hands behind his back to hide their trembling. 

Molly opened the door and Sherlock denied his desire to cradle her face and kiss her with all the passion he could summon. The look on her face when she realized it was him at her door told him that he was about to meet his match. 

“Leave,” Molly said with finality that dared him stay. Sherlock stood still and paused before he spoke. In that heated moment, Sherlock made his split second deductions. She is wearing her glasses--her eyes are tired because she hasn’t slept well these past nights. No horribly colored jumper, she wore a blouse that hung flatteringly on her shoulders. Molly’s posture was confident, mature, and womanly. The erie monotone of her reply was controlled and decisive--Molly is beginning to move on; she is closing her own floodgates against his coming storm. This last revelation frightened Sherlock from deducing anything further. 

Sherlock stood motionless and locked her eyes with his own. 

“No,” he said with the same amount of fierce resolve she was displaying. Molly stared back into his eyes and found that these past three days of letting go may be working because she was able to match his intensity with control and perseverance. 

“I have nothing to say to you, Sherlock,” Molly said and she straightened her spine and folded her arms. 

“Molly,” Sherlock began as his mouth went dry. He licked his lips and continued. “There are...I have to tell you...I’ve betrayed myself.” And a wave of embarrassment washed over him. The power in her eyes won as he broke eye contact. “I’ve lied to you,” Sherlock let his gaze fall to his feet. 

“Yes, Sherlock. The three days silence from you has already told me the phone call was a joke. You begged me, knowing I would never deny you. You played me to prove some tedious point of yours!” Molly said. “And, like I said when I asked you to leave, I’m done. I have no more words for you.”

Sherlock looked up quickly at her. “No, Molly. You misunderstand me!” Sherlock said with worry and haste. Molly narrowed her eyes spitefully at him, but did not interrupt. 

“I’ve deceived you, and myself,” continued Sherlock, and he once again met her eyes. “When we first met, I knew you were different. I knew you were dangerous to my work and focus. So, I banished you to the dungeons of my Mind Palace and tried...so stoically to forget you were there. And you, you made it harder each time I spoke to you...the last time I spoke to you, I...”

“What the hell are you saying, Sherlock?” Molly cut him off and said in a low growl. She did not want to talk about what he did, about what she made him say first. It was now dark and the warm glow of her porch light betrayed the situation. 

When Molly yelled his name, Sherlock rushed her space, stopping just before her folds arms. His face inches in front of hers. Molly took a startled breath but stood her ground, allowing him only the unfolding of her arms so she did not make contact with him. 

The immediate silence was heavy between them. Molly could smell clean linen, a musky juniper aftershave, and him. She watched as Sherlock leaned in slightly to her left, and her eyes followed the powerful contour of his jawline, but she did not turn her head. 

Sherlock spoke deep and slow. His direction of speech was past Molly’s ear and he stared straight ahead. “Molly, I lied to myself. All these years, and now it has grown to strong for me.” Sherlock turned his head slightly and whispered, “I’m giving in.”

Sherlock slowly shifted to her right, and again leaned in keeping his eyes resolutely forward. “Listen,” Sherlock spoke quietly. “In my Mind Palace there is a place I’ve boarded up and abandon. But, you found it, possessed the key, and entered. You opened the windows, you moved in, and that chamber became open to me again.” Sherlock cocked his head and whispered into her ear, “Now, it breathes.” He paused an took a moment to take in her scent; she’d just had tea, her shampoo smelled of honeysuckle, and her sweat smelled sweet.

Once more he moved to her left, but this time he let his voice tremble along her neck line, “What would it take? Molly, what would it take to make you believe me?” Sherlock reached out and gently took her hands hanging by her side. “Do you want flowers, Molly?”

“No,” Molly spoke in a whisper. She could not find voice to say more, but still she held her head straight on. 

“Do you want diamonds, Molly?” Sherlock paused for her answer and he felt a sudden desire to soothe the goose bumps dotting her neck. 

“No,” Molly repeated, her voice a little stronger.

“Do you want to wreak me completely to see proof that a heart beats within me? Do you want to chase my demons from haunting my nights?” Sherlock persisted as he seized her arms in an intense grip, “Do you want to rage at me, Molly? To scream at me how terrible I am?” Dropping the whisper to a breath, Sherlock said with eagerness, “Because I need to hear it.”

Molly turned her head sharply and looked menacingly into his eyes. “You are high off your tits! Aren’t you?!” she asked with an aggressive crescendo. “I’m done playing your game, Sherlock! Is this my consolation for my part in your game?” She wrenched her arms from his grasp and took a step back. 

Just as she stood back, Sherlock reached out his hand and held it out shaking between them. Molly scowled at his hand, then at his face. He was not sweating, and his eyes responded appropriately to the porch light, he was pale, but he had not recently used. 

“The withdrawals are beginning it appears,” Sherlock said with resigned smirk at his tremulous hand. 

“It isn’t like you. You are talking like you are unhinged, ” Molly said in a voice strong but distant as if her words could be mistaken for the breeze. “John told me the extent of your sister’s intelligence and insanity, it must be genetic. Mind Pa...” 

Molly had no time to brace herself when Sherlock suddenly closed the distance, he held her head firm in his hands. He pressed his body aggressively to hers and he held her immobile against the wall inside her dark entryway. 

Sherlock’s eyes looked desperate, their lips a breath apart. He whispered. “Give me time. I’ll tell you everything true; I can not hold back from you anymore.” Sherlock’s gaze drifted to Molly’s lips. “Don’t send me away.”

Molly’s struggling arms froze capturing his eyes again. She allowed herself half a heartbeat to consider what she was going to do. Seizing Sherlock’s lapel with one hand and the hair behind his head with the other, Molly pulled Sherlock to her lips with passion to collide with his own.


End file.
